Showing posts with label homo sapiens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homo sapiens. Show all posts

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Warming My Bones Beside The Fire

- where Obama is the new Rajinikanth-Sachin-Amitabh hybrid, so much so that he can contest right from the corporation elections to the presidency and win just about everything.

- where the new James Bond movie is just "James Bond 2008" since the mass populace feels that "Quantum of Solace" sounds like an Anthony Minghella movie set during WW 2.
- where Cho is still one of the best satirists around (proof: tughlaq writeup on karunanidhi meeting obama), predictably, all his targets continue to remain hopelessly shameless (proof: proof ?? proof ??)
- where we concede that the Madras Saravana Bhavans (_only_ the Madras HSBs)are one of the best exponents of Thamizh food, and at the same time, contend that they are hopelessly overpriced (not that anyone cares)
- where the only difference between all thamizh channels is that small logo that appears in a corner of the screen
- where 8-1 joins the Indian Cricket Pantheon alongside such celebrated numbers like 233, 281, 97 and the likes.
- where there are ads galore of fairness creams for men, yet there is no noise about "exploitation/stereotyping of men"
- where 4/5 year olds stand at the edge of the pool, shivering in a swimsuit on a cold november morning, while cosily dressed moms sit around and discuss world politics
- where you finally realize eating can be an experience, hobby and profession
- where your 2-wheeler responds to your old touch
- where your dog's definition of love is giving you blood wounds
- where home is


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Going To California

For a number of years, the California DMV used to have a standard message on all it's highway/freeway billboards - "Drive slow, Save lives". Considering it is California, naturally, no one ever drove slow.



But this time around, the DMV has seem to have found a winning caption. They just added two words to the original caption. "Save fuel". If that actually puts things in perspective, humanity, as a whole, needs a swift kick in the posterior.

I tend to think of humans as a bunch of noisy women in Mid-May Madras, talking endlessly about why [Insert teary-eyed mega serial heroine here] and [Insert shabbily-dressed serial director who decided to play hero] are going through such tough times, not realizing that their pots are overflowing with water and getting wasted (In Madras, this ranks somewhere in between sneezing loudly when Federer is on championship point against Nadal at Wimbledon and pressing the "Don't Press This. Ever" button on the Doomsday Device). I also see God as this corpulent, sweaty, swarthy corporation guy in khaki who looks at all this callousness, throws in a few choice abuses, kicks the pots up in the air and closes down the tap ruthlessly.

Additional DMV note: When I park the car between two stationary vehicles, I usually look at both of them to see how "car-savvy" they are. This later-day wisdom arrived after parking next to "unsavvy" SUVs who put on a few dings on the front side. An already dinged car is "unsavvy" since the guy driving should have been careless to get dinged up, while an expensive, clean-cut car is "savvy" since, at the least, the guy knows the pain of getting dinged and would watch out. At the DMV, I do my usual check. The car on the left looks okay, slightly dinged, but okay - sort of "savvy", but "not savvy enough". The car on the right was slightly different though. It had bullet holes. Bullet Holes. Wow. Thats a clean "armed and dangerous". Quite literally.

Additional California note: The Bay Area has perhaps the highest concentration of rice eaters after the TN-Andhra belt. Understandably, the rice stock hit a new low and the prices started shooting up. As I was pondering what happened to all the bags of rice which disappeared like Vittalacharya props from the shelves, I am told that highly educated, sophisticated, americanized, intellectual NRIs are buying twice as many 20Lb bags as there are people at home. That would feed a small nation during a nuclear winter for god's sake.

Surplus-Additional California note: In debating over the title of this post, Led Zeppelin wins a three way competition over RHCP and The Mamas & The Papas. Zep rules.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Inky Pinky Ponky

From the Hindu



So let me get this straight:

We have an honorable Member of Parliament, who represents all the people from his constituency, holding the entire future of the nation in his hands, gracing the almighty parliament and enjoying maximum security alongside other perks as housing, air-travel. Said honorable MP has two buttons in front of him/her colored Red and Green, out of which s/he has to press only one based on what the party has already chosen weeks before. Is Hindu telling me that there still exists a chance that they could actually press the wrong button? Factoid: The nephew, who is all of 2.5 years old, can choose one button from perhaps 20 including such difficult colors as Cyan, Magenta and Teal, making him 10 times qualified to be a Member of Parliament.

Also, am I led to believe that this honorable member of parliament, who isn't even sure about choosing one button out of a grand total of two, has made a decision on if the nuclear treaty is good for the nation or not?


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

No Planet For Normal Men

After watching bits and pieces of a few matches from March Madness (or The NCAA 2008 Men's Basketball Championship), I see this : Any time a close match gets over, after a cursory shot of the winning team celebrating, the camera quickly pans to a guy from the losing team who either has his covered in a towel, is looking at the basket in disbelief or openly crying on his coach's shoulder.

The single biggest problem that many Indians in the Bay Area have is that there are "Indians everywhere". This sentiment is usually expressed while gorging on Roti-Dal in an Indian restaurant.

That guy, who just changed lanes without a turn light and squeezed his car inches before the one behind, has a "Caution: Baby on Board" sticker.

Talking the talk : Criticizing all and sundry on Global Warming.
Walking the walk : Buying a cloth bag for $0.50 instead of sheepishly picking a gazillion free plastic bags.
Current score : Talk leads Walk by a few billions.

Every time an American/European fails to spot, say Bangladesh, in a map, people snicker. When given an opportunity to spot Burkina Faso in the same map, aforesaid people scratch their head.

QED.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Friday, August 10, 2007

Business@Lack Of Thought

Imagine this: You own a rich stock of an absolutely non-essential good that half of the world does not want. Now, the powers-that-be have forbidden the explicit purchase of said stock and have prophesized terrible things (power cut during mega serial, gold price dropping _after_ you buy expecting a rise) who do not heed their words. Consider that said target audience have a strong belief in all prophecies and sundry, so much so that they would undergo worser things to ward them off. Now, you have a sea of stock, a bunch of doomsday predictions and an absolutely uninterested market. To paraphrase Dirty Harry, "Do you feel lucky ?? Do you ??".



"Draft a personal marketing policy considering individual buyer behavior", says the Yale graduate. "A cross-sectional deep dive of data needs to be collected", announces the one from Dartmouth. The Cornell graduate says "We need to try the 'Lionel Robbins' theory to verify the market's liquidity before trying anything". The shop-keeper at the corner of North Usman Road yawns and announces "Aadi Mega ThaLLupadi" thereby proving the killer marketing theory of all - the one immortalized by a leading economist of South India, Mr. Kounda Mani - "Free Giving, Phenyl Drinking".

The trick is straight forward and the worst kept secret after 'Who is India's real Prime Minister'. Calculate price X, Increase the price to Y, decrease the price to Z such that Z is greater than X. Don't pray and waste time. Just open the doors wide open and start raking in the moolah. Still no crowd ? Rope in some 'artistes' depending on your budget. Choose from Sneha hip-hopping in Times Square to some dial-in show hosts from Sun Music selling clothes to a mermaid (who, incidentally, is known for wearing nothing or next to nothing (in case of children's books)). If nothing works, try the Saravana Stores (the Real Madrid of the ad world - all stars, no bizz) way where, as a climactic touch, the CEO walks up to the TV screen with a big smile. The TV goes kaput, but business goes ka-boom. Hard to believe, I know. But ask the lady smiling end-to-end at the pseudo-killer bargain she made, and you decide to quit your Ivy League college and open a platform shop on North Usman Road.

Courtesy AMT, some shops which are largely unknown outside the corner of the street they are in manage to get serious air time, Market-out actors get a new lease of life, TV channels manage to fill out their ad slots like a breeze, Ranganathan street defies physics and other known human sciences yet again, the saree stores clear unwanted stock and get paid for it, people buy stuff that they don't require and yet convince themselves they are the winners. In every corner of every shop, the quintessential shopping companion carries diapers, feeding bottles and has leaves sprouting off his feet. Yep, that's about even.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Friday, May 25, 2007

A Pinch Of Salt

1. "Ah, I know why you are not seen outside on the weekends" followed by all-knowing smile.
False. When the two houses that matter to you claim to be in the same city, but are so far apart that when it rains in one place, it's blistering hot in the other, half your weekend is spent inside a Santro cursing the Industrial Revolution.

2. "Things are so easy after marriage. All that you have to do is relax on the couch and wait for the food to be served to you"
Blatant Lie. They forgot to fill you in about the part where you clean up the kitchen while aforesaid provider of food is busy watching VH1.

3. "A (wo)man is a [wo]man's best friend"
Myth. Its the Microwave. And The Refrigerator.

4. "Wow, even your names start with the same letter. You are truly made for each other"
Prevarication. You should see the gravity defying stunts that happen over the remote control.

5. "When you see the missus do things you cannot do, you puff up with pride"
Fabrication. When the missus does Tanjore paintings for a hobby while you cannot draw a straight line even if your life was one the line, yeah right.

6. "Whatever stress you are under, vaporises the instant you see your dog wagging it's non-existent tail in glee at your mere arrival".
True. Blissfully True. So thankfully true.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Friday, March 23, 2007

Stomp The Yard

Average Joe's list of moonwalkers starts and stops with Neil Armstrong. Average Joe was recently informed that Salsa is not always a sauce. Average Joe pretends to look sloshed every time he is invited to a dance. Average Joe doesn't even dance in his own bathroom. Average Joe strongly believes that he is a few light years away from Dancing. Average Joe couldn't be farther from the truth.

Having Average Joke taking dance classes is like asking a Great White to register in the Summer Swimming Course. Every Average Joe is born with one inherent talent that rears it head when the right time comes by. Welcome to the world of Tappanguthu. In the next few minutes, you, the reader, are going to invoke the Tappanguthu beast that was peacefully sleeping inside you and everyone around is going to have their hearts up in their throat - one way or the other.

The first step to a good Tappanguthu dance is footwork. So, you sway your feet like a peacock or you are nimble like a doe ?? Please continue your grace and choose another art from. Tappanguthu is not for you. Not ever. The real Tappanguthu star is blessed with a complete lack of footwork so much so that he needs to be reminded that he cannot keep two paces on his left leg successively. Tappanguthu has just one major move which is a one-size-fit-all. Imagine a leech charging at your left foot from straight ahead. Kill it with all your might. Imagine another leech, this time at your right foot. Kill it. There is a third leech and a fourth. Even a fifth. An army of them. Now kill them alternating between your right and left foot. By the time you kill the 153rd, your footwork is tuned to Tappanguthu. Take a look at exhibit 'A' - Thalaivasal Vijay in "Kavalaipadade Sahodara". Look at his feet and their synchronized movement. Can he possibly be doing anything else than slowly, but surely, killing leeches ??

The second step is efficient use of hands. The old school believes that the art got it's name from the position of the fists which are rolled in, ready to punch. However, the neo-classicals have decidedly recommended against this. A good Tappanguthu always originates with open palms, which are usually shown at the partners face, chest, hips or other convenient areas. When there are two dancers, they trade the 'kuthu' alternately between each other. While Average Joe A pumps at B's face, B pumps at A's chest. After an agreed number of 'kuthu's, they trade places and continue with the same vigor. A cautionary note: The part where both of them agree on a said number of 'kuthu's is very important to prevent life threatening injuries and is hence highly recommended. Exhibit B has Dhanush and Chaaya Singh from "Manmadha Raasa". Enjoy the bilateral, symmetric exchange of 'kuthus'.

The third step is creative usage of the face. Other art forms strongly believe in the maxim 'the face is the index of the mind' and try hard to fit in all the nine emotions into their curriculum. But considering how difficult it is for the dancer and equally painful for the watching public, Tappanguthu offers to simplify it and creates a singular emotion which encompasses the crux of the art. For want of a better word, we will call it 'Lazy Anger'. To distinguish itself from other art forms which primarily use the eyes to emote, Tappanguthu uses the tongue. Extend tongue. Fold tongue inwards. Clamp it with teeth. When tongue is in place, half close both eyelids. There, Lazy Anger. Exhibit C has Vikram in "Gemini Gemini". Look at the lazy look in the eyes and the anger in the tongue. Just perfect.

The last, and probably the most important, component of Tappanguthu is the pelvis. Legend has it that an American with long sideburns, big glasses and funky hairstyle once attended a three day symposium on Tappanguthu in Vadipatti (in the outskirts of Madurai). Totally floored by the creative juices the locals let flow during their jamming sessions, he took his learning back to his country. His pelvis is now history. The pelvis is to Tappanguthu what the safety pin is to a grenade. Unleash one at the right time, and the effect can be quite explosive. Imagine pumping air into a cyle using an air pump. Now imagine that pump being parallel to the ground. Now go with the music and fill 'em up tubes. Exhibit D has Simbu, Nayanthara and Reema Sen from "Yamma Yamma Yammamma". The sum total of pelvis thrusts, if used with a cycle pump, would have inflated all four wheels of a bulldozer.

I can see you breathing heavily, folding your tongue in anticipation. Your feet are ready to move and you rub your hands eagerly. Your pelvis is off the hook. The Beast is waiting to be unleashed. It demands to be fed. Feed it well with "Vaala Meenukum Velangu Meenukkum Kalyanam".


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Happy Women's Day

- Rap is lame. So is Hip-hop. Not to forget Trance. Rock Rules.

- Professional stenographers take hints. Men will fumble despite being given a three-page essay on "what to do, when to do and how to do". If we have to know something, it's easier when we are told.

- In theory, a candle-lit dinner is a candle-lit dinner even if it is taken during a power cut at home. What value-add does an open-air restaurant have ??

- When we look at other women, we always think like anthropologists. Yes, that is more like it.

- "Yes" is not "No". "Yes" might even mean "But Don't Count On It" or "But Not For Long", but definitely not "No". In fact, "Yes" was invented to be opposite of "No" and can never mean "No". Even in exceptional circumstances.

- Every time we hear "Basically, I am looking for a nice guy", we take a deep look into ourselves to see if we are really Columbian drug lords.

- Formula1 is not just driving a car in circles. It is definitely better than jewelry shopping, where most people keep going in circles.

- Diamonds are forever. But life isn't. So let us all live life first, and think about diamonds later.

- We forget our debit card pass codes. We forget our email passwords. We forget our deadlines. So it is not like we intentionally forget any birthdays.

- We are all not Hugh Jackmans out here. But it would be nice to appreciate the fact that we aren't all Charles Mansons either.

- Curd rice is a dish. Making it needs expertise and it is most definitely an upgrade over Hot Water and Instant Noodles.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Monday, December 25, 2006

Sons of Fortune

Nick wiped the last of his tears. Tears were never really part of his job description, but he told himself that everyone cries when they lose their home. Only, it pained more because it was his loved children who were doing it to him.

When the initial job pitch was made to Nick, he was all too eager to take it up because, in his dreams, Nick always wanted to work with children. He had the strong belief that children were the key to the success of mankind and whatever small part he could play in helping them, he would do it without expecting any return for himself. True to his word, he never did.

Nick walked into the staff quarters. His entire staff was currently asleep. After all, this was probably the only night they could have some well deserved rest after a work schedule that means working round the clock all through the year. Just outside the staff quarters, Nick could see the silhouettes of Rudolph and his friends, all of them busy with their dinner and looking forward to the night on the town. Come tomorrow, when everyone would ask what happened to their lovely home, Nick would not have an answer and that made him sick to the stomach.

Nick had assumed it was going right until some time back. But then, he started seeing things going awry all around. The final straw was the big hole right on top of their very home. But what hurt Nick most was that he could really remember everyone responsible for this right from their childhood, people he loved and cared about. Thinking this, Nick's desperation was slowly turning into anger. Every year, he started off with hope, only for it to be shattered by the same people whom he dedicated his life for. Adults, who once would do anything for him at the drop of a hat, were behaving like jerks who wouldn't want to share their candy even when there was enough and more for everyone. Nick remembered how he told everyone back home that things would be alright after Kyoto. But then, when everyone who agreed earlier disagreed, Nick couldn't help but wonder if these were the same children whom he once taught the values of sharing and co-existence. Nick had to make a decision now and he made a choice. He would not go out this year. No. Not for a bunch of children who would grow up to become bullies. It just wasn't worth it.

As he started walking back to his room, he heard his name being called from behind. It was Jess.
"Nick, I know what you are going through and I know that it isn't easy. But aren't you one who taught to keep personal differences aside for the common good ??".
"But Jess, I am at the point where I don't think I can do anything to help. It's over Jess."
"How could it be over Nick, how could it be ever over until He thinks it is over ??"
"Look at it for yourself Jess, Look around you. Do you even remember how this place looked like when we moved in ?? Don't you see how it looks now ?? Do you see that big hole right on top of our very home ?? Do you have any idea who did it ?? I remember every single one of them. I took care of them, now who takes care of us ??"
"Oh Nick, it was never about us. It was always about them, the children. Why don't you see it ??"
"A despicable species that destroys the home of other species to make one for itself without any guilt or remorse, and you expect me to help them. No Jess, not anymore. It just isn't worth it. It never was and it never will be".
Jess bit her lower lip and suppressed a tear. She failed miserably.

She held his hand and said:
"Nick, during the toughest of times, there is only one thing that keeps people going. Hope. Mortals can lose it. But you, aren't you hope itself ?"
Nick stared at Jess for a second. He had made his decision.

In all his years of service, Nick had always left for work with a happy heart and lot of hope. He was not going to let this year be any different. Maybe, the kids this year were good. Maybe they were great. Maybe, they would do something to reverse everything and set things the way they are meant to be. Maybe, this would be the promised generation that He always spoke about. Nick looked at Rudolph and his friends, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen, all decked up for a ready for the ride around the world. He winked at them from behind his glasses. They could all see his smile from behind his beard and nodded. Nick donned his red suit, tugged the rein-deers and off he went into the wintry sky for yet another year of hope and promise.

"Ho. Ho. Ho."


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Thursday, November 30, 2006

A Few Good Salesmen

All the foreign documentary makers who have stereotyped India as a country of snake-charmers and cows need to be given a second chance. They can be offered a trip to this road on an auspicious day, and assuming they make it out alive, be asked to re-evaulate their options.
Excerpt from "Welcome to Death Valley a.k.a North Usman Road".

A big poster of a young lady with lots of love for her father in her eyes overlooks the entrance into one of the leading Jewellery shops. It reads "If your daughter doesn't deserve a platinum ring, who else does ??". Within no time, a whole line of fathers with lots of lover for their daughter queues up. Clearly, its not just the mega-serials that tap our sentiments.
Excerpts from "Mega Serials and Their Hidden Agenda"

When Lady A is thinking Parampara Pattu is probably the way to go, Lady B suggests Swayamvara Pattu. Lady C disagrees because Samudhrika Pattu clearly beats them hands down. However, according to the Lady D, that is because they haven't seen Vivaaha Pattu. Somewhere among all this, the store owners laugh their way to the bank and the original weaver from Kancheepuram who made all the four sarees is wondering what all the fuss is about.
Excerpt from "Nobody's Fool"

"This is not the Yellow color that I wanted".
"The Magenta would have been great if it had the border of the Teal one".
"I saw a beautiful saree when I got married in 1978. Do you have the same design for my daughter ??"
The Salesmen could answer "Errmm, there is only _one_ yellow according to the Rainbow", "We don't have that because it would suck" or "The only thing that has stayed the same since 1978 is the Ambassador and we can't give you that" respectively. But he can as well kiss his job Good Bye.
Excerpt from "The Thriving Art of Salesmanship and The Dying Salesman"

"I want this problem fixed".
"I want the feature that Solaris has in this operating system"
"We badly need a solution"
The software fraternity answers "Upgrade to the new release", "Thst is Solaris and this is not" and "You are not big enough for us to spend our time on you" respectively.
Excerpts from "1001 Famous Excuses for Software Folks"

Clearly the software mafia (includes Directors, Managers, Leads, Engineers, Response Center - the works) is the biggest whiner in the history of God's creation. Consider any one listed above from the software fraternity. Workplace is air conditioned round the clock, Free internet, At times free grub, Yearly raises as a right, Free petrol for the select few, Free car for the select few and a probably the best introduction into the marriage market. All this and they barely have to sell anything. Sofware Folks, get a life. Saree Salesmen, I bend my knee and bow my head to thee.
Excerpts from "The Life and Death of Saree Salesmen."

Women always pick the 'n'th saree where 'n' is a complex number that is a derivative of the table's strength to withhold sarees before giving in, the jealous look on the neighboring women's eyes and the strength of the pre-planned collective gasp of amazement let by every salesmen in the floor on cue when they think enough is enough. Popular criteria like a bored and dejected male companion, proximity to lunch time, the last train back home are myths.
Excerpt from "Da Saree Code"

On an average, it takes 72 women hours for a benchmark shopper (Read: Case where there are no visible tears in the eyes of the salesmen and the companion) to buy three sarees. It takes 15 women minutes for a benchmark shopper to buy a Veshti for the male companion. Reason: _Each_ shop has a _zillion_ varieties of sarees. All shops have _the same two_ varieties of veshtis.
Excerpts from "The Dominant Sex Alright, But Which One ??"

If a Double-Sided Saree costs 68000 rupees, wouldn't it be prudent to buy two sarees for 34000 each since
a) one cannot wear both the sarees at the same time
b) two people can wear two sarees while it might be a bit difficult to do it in a double sided saree without breaking the Laws of Physics.
Of course, there is a basic assumption that 68000 bucks for two sarees is within cardiac-arrest levels of the man.
Excerpt from "Favorite Last Questions By Men"

Bold men have tried to force their wish on the saree selection process, but have been rebutted with the unwinnable argument "The saree happens to be the _only_ thing that I like in this whole marriage. Do you want to disappoint me on that too ??"
Excerpt from "Championship Point"

Encouraging the favorite pastime of men (constant complaining for no apparent reason), Keeping million households alive by their wants, Keeping the economy of otherwise struggling areas like Kancheepuram unlike their male counterparts who are bent upon contributing to filthy rich money barons like ITC, UB and the likes, Yep, that demands a standing ovation from all Men (disgruntled or otherwise) to all you Women out there. Go Girl.

Andhar balti (Sommersault) in the end I agree, but undeniably true.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

This Just In

Hotel barons the world over are huddled together to fight this new phenomenon at their hotels which lacks any kind of sophisitication and that suave 'thing' but somehow manages to sneak in, courtesy his corporate sponsor.

Sorry brother, We are here and here to stay.

Receptionists at said hotel recoil at the mention of said phenomenon which carries assorted eatable items (viz. Cold Coffee, Banana Cake) in a transparent plastic cover when they are readily available in the same room.

With a price tag that would buy the kauravas and their extended family dinner for a single day, if I may add.


Porters at said hotel are perplexed by the phenomenon who has seemingly forgotten the art of generous tipping.

I carry my own luggage, is that so difficult to understand ??

Room servicemen are rooted to their feet about how this phenomenon manages to stay away from anything and everything that has a charge in the room, but always manages to finish the complimentary water bottles.

The watch word here is "complimentary"

Workmen at the Kortumalai Pillayar Restaurant are wondering at how this phenomenon walks more than a kilo meter for dinner when said hotel has not one, not two but five restaurants.

Onion uthappam with two chutneys and regular sambar. Even ten kilo metres wouldn't stand a chance.


Anthropologists world over are astounded at discovering that watching an episode of "Metti Oli" all alone on a sunday afternoon in a foreign land on a 42" plasma TV isn't the worst form of torture.

Actually, it has been updated to watching two back-to-back episodes.

Fashion gurus are flabbergasted at this new style of power dressing which includes a semi-formal shoe, a formal pant and a round neck t-shirt.

Trust me, I thought the laundry price tag was some jewellery advertisement

Wall street is worried at the sudden increase in demand for cabbage and appalam from South East Asia.

When everything on the menu involves something bovine or poultry or some squishy looking thing that gives you nightmares, what do you expect ??


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Thursday, June 29, 2006

English Tuitions

Practical Joke : noun - A mischievous trick played on a person, especially one that causes the victim to experience embarrassment, indignity, or discomfort.

is what the Bartender did when we begged him to change the music played from a mind-numbing trance number to something else. He promptly changed to "Jhalak Dhiklaaja" remix by Himmesh Reshmaiyya. Thanks to Beckham, Baawa and Rumkumar (sic), I escaped Death by Dismal Music.

Doomsday : noun - Judgment Day.

would be the day when orkut, a social networking site where single wo/men find themselves "kewl, hawt or bindaas" and want to "make fraandship" because the person is question has a "beautiful name and face", is banned at work. A walk down the aisle for coffee and all I can see is multitudes of screens showing the same bluish background of orkut with pictures of people taken in standard set pieces (Statue of Liberty, Snow in New Jersey, Times Square, ) with standard hobbies (read books, watch movies, listen to music) and standard testimonials (cho chweet, great guy, best buddy).

Perennial : adjective - Lasting an indefinitely long time

Underperformers and the next word that comes to your mind is the Spanish Football team. True to their billing, they lost their match to a french team that wouldn't be out of place in a charity veteran's tournament. With Torres, Villa and Xabi, they can only go higher. All this makes the job easier for overhyped Brazil (Yes, you read it right. Over Hyped). Germany, with 11 players on a field and few thousands off it, would scrape through Argentina making it even easier for Brazil. England would beat a Deco/Cristiano/Costinha-less Portugal with a clumsy Crouch header in the dying minutes, again helping out brazil. Italy would feign yet another dive and win against Ukraine while Brazil would kick the crap out of France as a revenge for 98. Germany would peak against Italy while Brazil would whizz past England. By the time of the final, Germany would have lost steam and a lacklustre Brazil would win again. Half of the world will go "I told you so" and we will get back to our daily lives. Duh.

Heartburn : noun - A burning sensation, usually centered in the middle of the chest near the sternum, caused by the reflux of acidic stomach fluids that enter the lower end of the esophagus. Also called acid reflux, cardialgia, pyrosis.

is slightly similar in sensation to the pain that anxious parents go through after watching this new songathon from the increasingly innovative Sun Music. As some hopeless song blares in the background, the foreground is alive with SMS messages, 10 out of 20 are a "I luv uuuuuu soooooooo much Sindhu/Pooja/Ilavarasi/" with the other 10 being "miss u 2 Dhanasekar/Ravikumar/Senthil Murugan". Mind you, nothing against people in love or PDA, but an error-ridden SMS on a braindead program on an also-ran television channel ?? Sun TeeVee, I bow to thee.

Tactless : adj - Lacking or exhibiting a lack of tact; bluntly inconsiderate or indiscreet.

are those Interior Decorators at Westside Garuda Mall who put the Women's Lingerie section right outside the trial room. Stand there and get burnt by fiery glares from other women. Move out feeling odd and fail to nod your head when the missus comes out wearing her new stock looking for your approval, and get burnt by the woman. Darned if you do, Darned if you don't.


Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...